Melanie stills when the man spots her, eyes widening. He's moving all wrong, too fast, too jerky, and he's not wearing e-blocker. His only weapon that she can see is a pipe. Doesn't he know how stupid that is?
What if he's so angry and desperate that he's just past caring?
She raises her hands, expression twisting with fear as he strides purposefully toward her. "Please," she says, her voice raw and cracking from ill use. She's not like the rest. She's not.
She might as well be.
Her throat seizes with something that might be terror and might be something much worse. Spinning on her heel, Melanie sprints across the street, bare feet pattering a light tattoo on the pavement before launching her up onto a dumpster, and from there to a fire escape. Out of pipe-swinging range, at least. She drops into a crouch in case he throws the weapon at her, instead, wide eyes staring at him from between the bars. It's like being in a cage.
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What if he's so angry and desperate that he's just past caring?
She raises her hands, expression twisting with fear as he strides purposefully toward her. "Please," she says, her voice raw and cracking from ill use. She's not like the rest. She's not.
She might as well be.
Her throat seizes with something that might be terror and might be something much worse. Spinning on her heel, Melanie sprints across the street, bare feet pattering a light tattoo on the pavement before launching her up onto a dumpster, and from there to a fire escape. Out of pipe-swinging range, at least. She drops into a crouch in case he throws the weapon at her, instead, wide eyes staring at him from between the bars. It's like being in a cage.
That's always where she was safest.